A Nation Called Mom
by PersonifyThis
Summary: America always called England Mom... just when no one else was around to hear it. When a disgruntled nation finds out he uses that fact in a prank which all of the nations witness. FACE family dynamics.


AN: There are a bunch of you on the author alert list so I hope this tickles your fancy. I know I've been pretty silent on the writing front, real life has been keeping me hopping, but I'm happy to report I've nearly completed my masters degree in anthropology and London living suits me quite well :)

This was a kinkmeme request that I quickly filled yesterday. I've posted it there, but I also figured I'd put it up here. The request was for: "America calls England Mom during a meeting, in front of everyone. He always calls him that, but this is the first time the whole wide world hears it. No USUK please (but FrUK is more than welcomed). Billion points for including the FACE family dynamics." So here we go!

Also Happy Mother's Day to all the brilliant moms out there!

* * *

Apparently America hadn't known about the spying. His intelligence agencies did, but he wasn't directly involved so it wasn't brought to his attention. At least, that's what he told Germany when the European found out. The German nodded and accepted America's formal apology, but went out and got plastered with Gilbert afterwards. Prussia reminisced about times when allies were actually on your side and when he and Francis had convinced Antonio to do… something he couldn't hear over the noise in the bar. By the time last call was shouted through the beer garden Ludwig had loudly agreed to get even with the superpower. Gilbert toasted the decision with another pint of ale and a "no you verdammter arschficker the bar is _not_ closed!"

He, Prussia and France had set up the prank. Italy was keeping them company too, but Germany wasn't sure if he actually knew what they were doing. Prussia was always down for some chaos. He'd only just managed to convince Francis after the boy was caught spying on him as well. They'd agreed to clip together a bunch of unflattering shots of America and show them at the conference.

The bugs were in America's hotel room, cell phone and anywhere else Germany could think of. Including England's place before the conference. Arthur had invited Alfred to his place a few days before the world conference. He did it for all of his old colonies. Some accepted the invitation, some refused. They only knew because France mentioned Matthew going over in the past. The Canadian had mentioned Alfred was going over at to Francis who in turned had been bemoaning lost colonies with Gilbert and Antonio at a bar a few days later.

Prussia was hunched over the computer monitor flicking back and forth between video feeds with one hand and texting with the other. Even in the morning sun the computer light lit his skin up blue. France had his legs stretched out on the console, one ankle crossed over the other, sketching idly on a scrap of paper. Nothing much had happened, but Alfred had only arrived the night before and barely said a full sentence before falling into bed. They'd all noted when England woke up, half past seven, and started puttering around the house before settling in the morning room with a pot of tea and the morning paper. They'd ignored him.

"He's up," Prussia cackled. The clock read 09:17.

Germany slid into a chair in front of a monitor, hoping that the dummkopf wore a women's underwear to bed so they didn't have to waste too much time. They tracked the superpower through his bathroom routine, disappointed to find he didn't do anything out right humiliating. Although they did save the audio clip of him singing his national anthem in the shower. That had potential.

"Hey Mom!" America exclaimed, his voice slightly tinny on the speakers, "where's the coffee?!"

Germany barked out a laugh as Francis spluttered on his espresso, "Que?"

"Why is he-?" Italy trailed off his eyes tracking the two blond nations.

Prussia zoomed in on the blond. His back was to the camera as he searched, but he turned, giving them a perfect shot of his face and called again. A vague knot was growing in his stomach.

"Mom!"

"Alright. Alright." England walked through the doorway with an eye roll and half-smile. "I'm coming you rascal. No need to wake the entire neighborhood."

The American grumbled about not being _that_ loud and crossed his arms. England pulled open the cabinet and moved around a few tea boxes. Within seconds he was holding a Folgers tin of coffee grinds. A sheepish smile rose on America's face.

"Did you even try to look for it before calling me?"

"I did I swear!"

England huffed.

"Thanks," America pressed a kiss to his cheek.

The coffeepot gurgled on the screen and spluttered and the silence in the surveillance room broke.

"That's so," Italy looked fit to burst, "precious!" He fluttered around the monitors cooing at the image of Alfred and Arthur.

"This is awesome!" Prussia cackled.

"We can't use this," Francis sighed.

"What? Why not? It's perfect!" Prussia exclaimed.

Francis arched an eyebrow at him, "You said embarrass America. Nothing about England."

Prussia shrugged, "he got caught in the crossfire. Casualty of war, if you will."

The Frenchmen looked troubled. Germany would rather use the singing clip, but didn't say anything and Gilbert took that as acceptance to use the Mom cut.

* * *

All of the nations were seated and Germany was at the podium beginning the session. As he turned on the projector a sunny American voice rang out bouncing off the walls and into the rafters, "Hey Mom!"

A video flickered onto the screen. It was a head shot of America. Morning sun highlighted the faintest of freckles across his nose. His blue eyes were focused off screen, "Where's the coffee?" he asked.

The image pulled back to reveal the superpower had bedhead, was in a pair of gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt. He wasn't wearing his glasses. On the screen America's attention flickered back to the pantry and he rummaged around, "Mom!"

Every nation in the entire room was fixed on the video. The blond teenage nation was frozen. He could feel Matthew gripping his arm.

"Did you even try to look for it before you called me?" England appeared in the doorway with a soft expression, the exasperation on his face, tempered with affection. And every nation in the world could see it. Alfred felt sick.

"I did I swear!" he replied and England just huffed at him.

"Thanks Mom," America pressed a kiss to his cheek.

The video cut to black. It was unsigned, but a single sentence appeared across the screen. _Some things are better left in private._ A thunderous expression erupted across America's face. His gaze turned to Germany.

"You did this?" America growled.

Germany's eyes flicked to Prussia, but he nodded, "I did."

Then the dam broke.

"The fuck dude?" America stood so quickly his chair toppled over, "It's not like I was wiring tapping _you_. Jesus Christ! You know we can't control our people!" He slammed his hands down on the table sending little fissures through the wood spidering webbing out.

Germany scowled at the display, "And perhaps you will think to have a conversation with your CIA director."

Canada slowly stood behind America, arms crossed looking down at the European nation.

"Oh no, that's not what's going down at all," America sneered.

"Remember you _are_ allies," Canada murmured beside him.

America scowled, "Yeah and that's about all we are because we sure as shit ain't friends."

Italy tugged at Germany's arm, "I like being friends with America."

Wide blue eyes swung over to the Italian. "You were in on it too?" America's expression darkened.

"Well yes," Italy said slowly, ignoring or not understanding the silent signals from Francis three seats down, "me, Prussia and France… because spying is wrong and Germany said you'd be embarrassed and it'd make you stop."

Alfred's eyes widened and he looked to his old mentor. Another nation cackled and the video started up again and the shouted "Mom!" was overlaid with chatter from different groups. Nations mocking, cooing, laughing at the name.

"Turn that bloody racket off!"

The bellow came from England who had risen from his seat as well. Acidic green eyes stared down at the Cuban nation who was at the podium jeering at the image of Alfred with North Korea.

"Mama bear's feisty," someone whispered as Alfred's shout played out again.

Arthur whirled in that direction, "It will bear you all well to remember," he hissed, enunciating each syllable with cutting precision, "how I got to become the world's largest empire before you say," he glared down the table, "another word."

It was New Zealand who moved to turn the video off. The young nation directed a small smile at his step-brother and mother-country in the silence.

"Shall we break for lunch?" England suggested and before anyone could say anything he snapped his briefcase shut, "Excellent. Be back by half past two," and was stalking to the door.

Francis went scrambling after him. Matthew and Alfred also headed for the door.

* * *

Alfred could too easily break the entire building if he punched the wall. So Matthew kept his arms up and let his brother batter him. A slight sweat had broken out across his hairline and Matthew lowered is arms in tandem with Alfred.

"Feeling better?"

"Yeah, thanks bro."

Matt pulled the superpower in for a fast hug. America thumped his back before pulling back.

"Do you want to find them?"

Alfred looked torn, but agreed. The wandered down the hallway until the heard shouting coming from one of the rooms. Alfred moved to go in, but Matthew held him back with an arm. Alfred put a hand to his ear and Matthew nodded. The two lurked outside listening to their parent nations.

"What possessed you?"

"Mon amour it was just meant to embarrass the boy."

"That's _not_ what I'm talking about and you know it."

Arthur turned away from the Frenchman's reaching hand to fix himself a cup of tea. Francis reached for him again and the sound of a bright slap echoed down the hallway. Following the sound was the realization that the slap connected. After centuries of fighting Francis could dodge any of Arthur's physical outbursts with ease. He didn't though.

"Find another room to sleep in tonight," Arthur hissed with some of the hurt he'd been hiding slipping into the sentence.

"Arthur," Francis calls, "I'm sorry."

And the Briton stopped halfway to the door and looked over his shoulder, "You're not sorry you did it. You're sorry you got caught."

"It's just," Francis floundered, "Alfred's an adult," The Frenchman slunk over to where Arthur stood glaring, "He can handle a little embarrassment and… you know how Gilbert is."

"Reminding me that you teamed up with your friend to pick on your son?" Arthur sneered, "Not the smartest apology _love_." And the word love was spit like a curse word rather than an endearment.

The forgotten kettle screamed and Arthur stalked back to it. He poured with trembling hands and Francis waited before saying anything else... Probably so he didn't risk have to duck scalding water.

"Mommy and Daddy fighting?"

The North Americans turned to see Mexico smirking at them.

Alfred scowled, "Fuck off."

Mexico ignored him, "Really Alfred I knew you and Arthur were close, but-" Alfred's ears were red and his hands were fists.

Canada cut in, "Puerto Rico was looking for you just now."

Mexico's brown eyes turned to him. She smiled, "Really?" and the corners of her eyes crinkled with glee.

Canada nodded, "yeah something about the Spanish language conference coming up?"

"Then I'll have to go give your colony all the help he needs," she said brightly before flouncing off.

The two watched her go before Alfred turned to him with a raised brow.

"You know I'm working on that with PR."

Canada nodded, "but I figured she'd be more likely to leave if she thought she was one upping you."

Alfred bit out a laugh. When they turned back to the fighting nations there was spilt tea on the counter, a suit jacket strewn on the floor and Arthur pressing Francis into a chair.

"Oh my god, ew," Alfred moaned covering his eyes. "Do they have to?"

Matt surveyed the scene. Francis's hands were pinned behind the chair with his tie and Arthur was definitely dominating the kiss.

"Well I guess we know how that turned out."

"But I wanted to talk to Francis," Alfred whined moving his hand and stepping away from the door.

"Not now," Mattie laughed.

"No shit not now," Alfred grumbled.

Matt slugged him in the shoulder and the two ambled off.

"You know I think it's swee-"

Alfred shoved him into a potted plant before he could finish the sentence. Matthew leapt up with a wolfish grin, "Glad we understand each other."


End file.
